


King of a Hollow Throne

by orphan_account



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Medieval, kingdom - Freeform, vague story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 05:05:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12763785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This was just a little story I started and did not backspace for. It is just going to be a one-shot. I'm not continuing this universe.If you can understand what happened, please leave a comment below with your perception of the events here.I'll catch ya in the next story. Cya! *waves*





	King of a Hollow Throne

He didn't know when it happened, really. Just a flash of lightning and static and suddenly the world fell apart.  
The land before him was destroyed, demolished and deteriorating at the seams. Buildings that were once pristine were covered in dusty cobwebs with roofs that caved in. Debris littered the stone-lines streets and rats skittered away from his footsteps.  
Wind whistled through the hollow chapel, sounding the bell for a ghost town. A meeting, it seemed, though only for phantoms and memories lost to the past.  
The markets, once a glittering gem of the land with laughter like bells and riches beyond comprehension, now housed an empty square filled to the brim with dilapidated wooden stalls and a few rotted fruits. They fell apart as the footfalls crawled nearer, the fragile apple crumbling to dust.  
He looked up at the once-grand castle, recalling the soaring towers and proud banners of the land. Embellished golden goods and fine wines and lavish parties for the best of the best.  
A grandiose throne, gold and silver, and ornate and flamboyant, sat at the end of a long chamber. Pillars soared into the seemingly endless ceiling, and banners hung from the flagposts.  
This room, it seemed, was untouched by the same issue that plagued the rest of the land. The lightning and static did not touch here, as if it deemed the room too flawed to find purpose in destroying it further.  
For indeed crooked merchants and sly nobility spoke ill of the other under the disguise of pleasantries. Everyone was part of a masquerade with elaborate masks made of lies and elegant outfits spun from deception. They danced around each other, weaving wicked webs to ensnare the unwary.  
Slowly, he approached this untouched room. This hallowed hall of backstabbers and liars. His footsteps fell silent on the velvet rug leading him to the ornate but empty throne.  
Intricate statues lined the path, all incredibly detailed of their muse.  
Fair maidens and charming men lined the rug, adorned in simple outfits, but beyond their drab outfits hung a silk-spin illusion of grandness. Threads glimmered in the faint light, outlining tawdry gowns and suits, jewels and masks of lies. Riches perceived beyond reality.  
He swiped his hand through the threads of illusion, coming up with nothing in his hand and continued on towards the throne.  
A crown and scepter lay on the plush seat, inviting him to sit and lay claim to the hollow city and yet, he denied it. For he was not there to claim a kingdom, rather to destroy it. He raised the crown above his head and gazed up into the gold laden with precious gems and the red of the velvet before throwing it down the dais, and shattering it. The metal twisted away from the crown and gemstones tumbled out from their fragile places in the gold.  
At once, the illusions around the statues fell, leaving drab merchants standing frozen in the hall.  
Resolute, he destroyed the scepter in a similar manner, and send the jewels tumbling from the gold again. But when it came to the throne, his head filled with doubts, and his heart wavered in decisions. Could he himself destroy something so enormous? Would he even want to ruin a piece of art like this?  
No, he couldn't. He mustn't. Leave art alone, and this elaborate, ornate, and intricate throne was no exception. The engravings itself must have taken years to do.  
No, best leave art alone.  
He sat down on the seat, running his hands over the golden lions and petals that bloomed from the armrests and closed his eyes, becoming as still as the statues of the poor.

And the hollow city finally claimed its King.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a little story I started and did not backspace for. It is just going to be a one-shot. I'm not continuing this universe.
> 
> If you can understand what happened, please leave a comment below with your perception of the events here. 
> 
> I'll catch ya in the next story. Cya! *waves*


End file.
